Irason waved her hand toward the two of them. In the dim corner, she had already created a rough wooden table with flowers growing on it, and beside it were three stools made of tree stumps wrapped in moss.

Although the damp moss didn’t seem suitable for coming into contact with fabric, Lyle still took a seat as Irason gestured for him to do so.

The hard, cracked growth rings didn’t nibble away at the leather on his buttocks like a hungry bird; the sensation was more like cotton, soft and warm. It was a novel feeling that one could never imagine, a disparity that could never exist in reality, where basic rules had been ignored and tossed aside into an annoying corner.

That’s right, this was a dream.

Irason’s body shimmered with greenish-blue specks of light, and tender shoots climbed up her fingers. While Lyle was distracted, the Dragon Lich, now only bones, turned into a smiling elven girl.

She looked at Lyle with pride, like a warm hostess.

That innocent smile on her face was as if silently saying,

"Welcome to the world of dreams."

With the embarrassment of facing a pretty stranger, Lyle subconsciously took off his hat.

"Hello, Miss Irason."

Before the elf could react, the scholar interrupted her.

"Lyle, what you’re facing is just an illusion; in reality, Irason is still that Lich without a shred of flesh. As a spellcaster, you must learn to see through the illusion and grasp the truth."

The elf, whose moment was cut short, puffed out her cheeks, like a bun. She looked at her disheartened brother, perhaps about to receive the first compliment from an outsider in a hundred years.

"It’s unbelievable that brother Morocoy actually has descendants," she said.

Facing his sister’s teasing, the scholar maintained a hint of humor.

"Indeed, I believe the main reason is that my wife is not a troublesome woman."

Ignoring the Green Dragon Priest’s snarling, the scholar looked at Lyle.

"Maintain the dignity of an elder in front of my student, my sister; you have serious matters to attend to."

But would the Dream Elf, the elder who was like a mischievous child, be at a loss?

"Alright, Lyle, let’s begin your training." With a loud snap of her fingers, Lyle almost laughed out loud.

The scholar, sitting quietly beside with his mask on, saw his robe suddenly burst into a riot of colors, with reds, yellows, and all sorts of colors. Pale pink lace ribbons entwined above the scholar’s head, and a big bow was tied on the tip of his staff.

Even though all of this fell apart in an instant under the control of the scholar’s magic.

"Irason, don’t engage in such childish actions any longer," he said.

Completely disregarding the scholar’s words, the Green Dragon Priest who had taken a step back started her teaching.

"You need to create the psychological emotions that arise from tasting food, following the different response mechanisms evoked by the sensation of taste. Let’s call it the gustatory system. So, to shape a gustatory system, from nothing to something is a difficult process."

"Fortunately, the gustatory system already exists within you."

Irason extended a finger and touched it to Lyle’s beak mask, which dissolved like quicksand, revealing his face. In the elf’s hand appeared a fruit with green skin, about the size of a pigeon’s egg.

"Humans already possess the ability to perceive taste. This is Moonlight Fruit from my memories, a food belonging to the Dream Elves. Eat it, Lyle."

Beneath the thin layer of skin was the sweet, juicy flesh, with the sweetness of honey peaches and the refreshing scent of mint. While Lyle was chewing, Irason reached out and touched the Immersive Stone.

Above Lyle’s head, a wisp of white mist emerged from his hair and drifted down in front of the three.

In the smoke, Lyle saw a blurry version of himself, smiling faintly.

"What is this?"

"Your taste feedback. About the Moonlight Fruit."

Irason pressed the wisp of smoke to Lyle’s face, and, without chewing the fruit again, the taste of the Moonlight Fruit miraculously appeared in Lyle’s mind, along with the joy of tasting something sweet.

"This is what you have to do. In the dream, taste various flavors to generate similar emotional feedback, then synthesize them to construct the Liches’ gustatory system."

That is to say, all I need to do is eat!

The method that had racked Lyle’s brain was resolved just like that, and the joy of an unhindered path ahead surpassed the sweetness resonating in his throat and tongue.

"Let’s feast, Nia!"

"Yay!"

Nia and Lyle immediately began their gluttonous mode, tasting the endless stream of food constructed from dreams.

The various light fruits and vegetables imagined by Irason, the lavish feasts conjured by the scholar sir, and all sorts of desserts from Lyle’s memory. Clouds of sweetness materialized in the air, each carrying Nia and Lyle’s happy smiles.

What a beautiful dream, I truly wish I never had to wake up.

Lyle casually picked up another food item and placed it in his mouth.

Blech!

The bitter taste nearly made Lyle spit out his own tongue, and a pale cloud rose above his head, projecting an image of a half-dead Lyle.

"What’s going on?"

Lyle’s eyes widened as he looked at the Green Dragon Priest with a weird smirk and the obviously unappealing fruit in her hand.

The scholar’s voice carried a chill that seemed to freeze the marrow in one’s bones.

"Of course, the flavors of this world aren’t solely sweet. Sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty—all these are flavors you need to taste."

"Lyle, you’ve had too much sweet."

"It’s time for you to taste some bitterness."

Next to the scholar and the elf, those floating dark substances resembled the teeth of demons on display.

For Andrey’s sake, must I, Lyle, taste a hundred flavors? Am I about to suffer?

Lyle took a deep breath, mentally encouraging himself.

"For research, it’s necessary, Lyle, you need to endure hardship."

"Come on, teacher, I’m ready!"

The scholar nodded, extending his finger. A mass of darkness akin to an abyss converged in his hand. Looking at that ghastly thing, Lyle felt as if he were seeing himself screaming in agony.

"Of course, I feel for my student, so better to suffer briefly than for a long time, Lyle. This is a food... substance I’ve created from one hundred and seventy-three types of bitterness. Eat it, and you’ll be more than halfway done."

Gazing at the mass that seemed to twist time and space itself, Lyle’s eyes bulged.

"Teacher, this... this only counts as halfway?"

"Yes," the scholar conjured another mass of darkness no less formidable with his other hand. "This is the remaining part; by consuming these two pieces, the basic taste requirements of the Liches will be met."

"Then why not combine the two into one?"

The cold light reflected off the scholar’s mask.

"Excessive blending would make it impossible to distinguish the individual flavors."

"Moreover, according to my calculations, if you were to eat both at once, it would overwhelm your brain’s nerves, leading to the loss of taste. This is about the limit of your tolerance. It would be unwise to cause permanent damage to oneself for a single experiment."

Is this a deadly poison? No, even poison couldn’t do this.

Confronted with the scholar’s slowly advancing tall figure, Nia had completely hid behind Lyle’s shadow.

"Here, Lyle, let the teacher feed you."

No, please no!!!!!!!!